


Goodnight, Honeybee

by sydneygremlins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Jewish Castiel, M/M, Poetry, but i highly recommend reading it anyway bc it SLAPS, most of these can be read without having read TBAH already
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydneygremlins/pseuds/sydneygremlins
Summary: "The sun made me happy, so did you. Does it really need that much explaining?”“It’s nice to hear.”“Well, I just think it’s rude that you called me Honeybee, when you literally told me Bumblebees were your favourites, the first day we met. What am I to you, Cas?”“Um, bumblebees were my favourite. But then you told me honeybees were yours—which I realise now, of course, was probably another of your filthy lies—” Dean barks out a laugh, “—so they forever reminded me of you. And honeybees became my new favourites.”~~~The above is an excerpt from the work this is inspired by. Cas in that work writes poetry for Dean, which inspired me to write these! This is just a bunch of half-coherent rambling and me trying to get the hang of writing poetry, don't expect too much from it :3In other words: Al and I went a little insane over the line 'Goodnight, Honeybee' and I opened gdocs and went into a gay poetry trance.Not in any sort of chronological order, but may have spoilers so proceed with caution.Enjoy?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester





	1. (i can't say) sorry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allenabeille](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allenabeille/gifts), [intothesilentland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothesilentland/gifts).
  * Inspired by [To Build a Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8411608) by [intothesilentland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothesilentland/pseuds/intothesilentland). 



> Hello, Al, because I know you'll be reading this even though I've already shown you all these poems (though some have been edited slightly). I appreciate you all the same. ❤️🐝
> 
> And hello Ros! You've already seen a few of these but there are also a bunch I didn't send you. Every so often I think about the last few lines of tbah and need to sit down for a moment because they're so excruciatingly soft and I tried to channel the incredible amount of yearning I feel in those moments into these.
> 
> And to my other readers: I see you are also Feeling Things about deancas. Enjoy! And try not to think too hard about the finale.

Angry music blasts through tinny speakers,

Knuckles white on the steering wheel.

Tension thick in the air between us

As you drive me home through pouring rain,

And I would do anything to resolve it.

But my mouth,

Usually a well of words and thought

And perfectly-constructed verse,

Has run dry.


	2. secure in shared solitude

Water trickles slowly

Down slate tiles on the roof,

Fading touch of the storm

That thundered through the night

Pulled us to sleep like a cosmic lullaby.

With your hand firmly

Tucked behind my neck,

Breath puffs warm and peaceful

On the tender skin,

Room silently suspended in

The infinite stillness that arrives

Just as the day ends.

(And that somehow has crept

Into late morning, now, also,

As I hold a mug to my mouth,

And you stir beside me,

And murmur _hello.)_


	3. closer to heaven than hell

Night time holds endless stories,

Stars tiny gleaming sparks,

That map constellations,

That flutter like falling feathers,

Visions that show us into the heavens.

A bottle hangs from your hand,

Cold and half-full,

Gaze muted by shadows,

Distant expression cool.

I could reach out now,

But I keep my ground.

If fear was not my guiding star

Perhaps I’d have found

The courage.


	4. dancing

_Did you know_

_Bees talk by dancing?_

You murmur into my ear, smiling, 

Like I didn’t know.

And I can’t help but laugh,

Joy bubbles in my chest

As you smile proudly,

And grip me a little tighter.

Slow music filters through our dark kitchen,

And we dance.

And I can feel your movements,

And I can feel your thoughts:

Written in how your shoulders sway,

How you tilt your head so slightly down

To cross that single inch of difference

You bragged about when we were fifteen.

And I wouldn’t like to be anywhere but here,

Spinning slowly, safe in the arms

Of the one I hold dear.


	5. a miracle happened here

You stared, with wide eyes,

As I lit candles, one by one.

And grinned, warm and bright,

With icing sugar caking your hands,

As you realised your best choice that night

Had been to eat several sufganiyot.

You laughed, proud, triumphant,

When you won the raisin pile,

Then scowled and downed your grape juice

As you remembered raisins are repulsive in bulk

But only after wolfing down plenty.

Candles flickered warmly long into the night,

And you sat watching them,

As talked quietly of light,

And love, and fondness.

I snuck raisins from the pile

Next to your clasped hands,

And you feigned ignorance.

When we tumbled into my bed late,

Long after the wax had run down,

We carried on whispered conversation

For what felt like hours,

Muting our laughter by planting our faces into the pillow

When the joy got too much to hold in.

And when we did it all over

The very next day,

I was never more glad

That a miracle that happened so long ago

Is still celebrated today.


	6. nicknames

you gave me a nickname,

when we were just little kids.

the syllables of my full name

marred by crooked teeth

and even decades later,

as we are worn and tired,

you still don’t call me  _ castiel _ . 

i’m just  _ cas _ , in your eyes.

now in return, you're

_honeybee_ , to me,

a reminder of your sweetness

and the love that i keep

for you, my dearest sunshine,

who's weathered storms of all kinds

but from now and till forever

i'll weather them at your side.


	7. home

sometimes, home is in the arching columns 

and soaring spires of scotland,

in the steady, ancient brick walls,

the long cobbled streets that thrum with history, 

with long-forgotten lives that will never be known of again.

sometimes, it is in the bottom of a glass,

as i attempt in all its futility to drink away my sorrows,

an act my father would be ashamed of. 

sometimes, home is still the white house in lawrence,

large and largely empty,

but filled to the brim with memories, 

overflowing with warmth and kindness. 

but through all of this, for years, now, 

my home is still the boy who lived opposite,

the boy with sandy hair and clear green eyes and ratty band tees,

who plays the guitar like it’s an extension of himself, 

bringing life into the notes,

whose singing voice could make angels weep. 

my home is still in the warm embrace of his arms, 

the constellation of freckles in swathes 

across his tanned face like flecks of paint, 

the gravel in his voice as he greets me in the morning, 

the sharp lines of his jaw that i want to reach out to

and trace with gentle, worshipful hands 

home is where the heart is, they say, 

and my heart has been firmly fixed on him 

since the edge of my memory.


	8. birthday cake

on my fourteenth birthday,

my dad baked me a cake:

chocolate, with vanilla icing 

and colourful sprinkles.

we climbed onto the roof to eat it,

with paper plates and lemonade. 

you stabbed a plastic fork into your slice,

lifted the whole thing off the plate, 

hoisted it into the air and ate it like an apple,

never slowing, smearing icing  across your cheeks 

in crumb and sprinkle-specked streaks.

i laughed and told you to slow down,

but you stared me dead in the eyes 

and shoved the rest in your mouth

and washed it down with a swig of soda.

later, as you winced and rubbed at your stomach,

you said i might've had the right idea, 

but, you added, with the most devilish grin,

not right enough to regret anything.


	9. the thin spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is loosely inspired by O, Bird! by cathedraltunes, which I highly recommend.

sometimes, in those years after i left,

that seemed to stretch on for eternities,

i forgot, for brief snatches, that i’d gone at all. 

i saw an ice cream store, and thought 

how you would criticise the mint choc chip.

i bought a pretty postcard 

without a thought but:  _ he’d like this, _

and only realised after i left the store 

that you were an ocean 

(and lifetime) 

away. 

i saw you in the flight of sparrows,

found you in my Father's verse.

i heard you in the whispers of the radio

and felt you in the weight in my chest.

i let myself fantasise, 

in the thin space 

between night and morning,

that the hand on my waist 

was not my own, 

arm oddly contorted,

but yours, tenderly, fondly,

tracing patterns on my skin. 

i slipped into a world of my own,

where, just for a moment,

you and i lived in perfect bliss,

eating fresh-cooked lunch together,

holding hands as we walked through the woods,

bidding  _ goodnight  _ to each other 

before we drifted to sleep 

in the room we did the same in

too many years ago.

and as i was pulled under, 

into unconsciousness,

i thought to the imaginary you 

that curled against me,

with quiet warmth,

_ good night, honeybee. _


	10. long nights

a bottle,

cold, cloudy with condensation,

passed from hand to hand,

like a collection tray at church,

or a bowl of hot food at the dinner table.

we draw long sips,

sneak glances at each other,

fumble our words,

like speech is something alien.


	11. sundays

a lazy morning.

sunlight stretches through the air,

arcs of it highlighting motes of dust

that move in intricate swirls,

like the house is breathing.

_ hey, sunshine _ , you say,

shoulder against the doorframe.

i eye you over the rim of my mug.

your smile is radiant, glowing

as you stride across the room,

and bring my drink down to the table

with hands gentle and sure.

wandering steadily south,

as you find other occupation

for my mouth.


	12. take flight, i miss you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the meter is weird in this one! sorry!
> 
> (also yes! those are capital letters omg!!)

I would hold your body gently, tender

As I’d hold a bird aflutt’ring,

Fleeting bodies, wholly kin,

Soul in strands beneath my hands.

Would find the grooves inside your heart,

Pulsing, rhythmic, in your skin;

Kiss the wounds that grieve you,

And wear kind words ever so thin.

You may not know the true extent

To which my feelings reach, but

I will hold you in my heart, through 

Even many miles apart.


End file.
